


Nobody Does It Better

by leiascully



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Laundry, On the Run, X-Files OctoberFicFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-28 18:33:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8457670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: “This is our song,” he said.  “You’re keepin’ all my secrets safe tonight.”  “Tonight and every night,” she said, rolling her eyes just a little, but she couldn’t help smiling at him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Post-S9  
> A/N: from a tumblr prompt  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

They were washing their clothes in some laundromat in Nowhere, North Dakota, a town so bleak that the laundromat seemed like a haven, despite its scuffed floors and its bleary lights. The place was empty and it was only 10:30. The radio was tuned to some oldies station. The hottest hits of thirty years ago rasped out of the speakers, only half-audible over the rumble of the dryer.

“Maybe they don’t want to come out after dark,” Mulder theorized, stuffing laundry into one of the dryers. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

“I think seasonal affective disorder is a more likely diagnosis than things that go bump in the night,” Scully told him, hoisting herself onto one of the empty washers. 

“All these years later, still more science than mysticism,” Mulder said, clicking his tongue in regret. 

“One of us has to be,” Scully said. 

“Take a walk on the wild side,” he said.

“Maybe a laundromat in North Dakota isn’t the most likely place to search for mysteries,” she said.

Mulder finished loading the dryer and straightened up, walking over to her. He leaned until his face was so close she could have turned her head and kissed me. “Oh ye of little faith,” he murmured.

“The irony is palpable,” she told him.

He leaned back and smirked. They gazed at each other through the grey-white light. He looked older. She was certain she did too. The radio DJ said something too jumbled to hear - Scully caught the words “love” and “loneliness” and “special”, typical late-night banter - and finally something familiar came on. 

“The Spy Who Loved Me,” Mulder said.

“That’s the name of the movie,” Scully told him, “not the song.”

“You’re full of surprises,” he said.

She shrugged. “Charlie loved Bond movies. I love accuracy.”

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand.

“Mulder, no,” she said. Surely a laundromat in the middle of nowhere wasn’t bugged, and they’d had too many identities to remember which one was this week. 

“This is our song,” he said. “You’re keepin’ all my secrets safe tonight.” 

“Tonight and every night,” she said, rolling her eyes just a little, but she couldn’t help smiling at him.

“Dance with me,” he insisted.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” she asked.

“Not a chance,” he said, his eyes twinkling, and he gestured again with his open hand. She took it and slid down off the washer. He pulled her close and they swayed to the music. She let him twirl her around. 

“This would have been easier in heels,” she told him. 

“I do miss the heels,” he said. “Is that selfish? I miss the heels, I miss the suits. I miss the oh-so-subtle unbuttoned blouses.”

“Definitely selfish,” she assured him. “But I miss your suits too.” 

He gazed down at her. “There’s some kind of magic in you,” he said solemnly. 

“Couldn’t keep you from running,” she said, gazing back up at him.

He laughed, a slightly bitter sound. “We’re both running now.” 

“We are,” she acknowledged, “but at least we’re together. If it makes you feel better, we can go to Brooks Brothers and try on some suits.”

“Perfect,” he said, and bent down to kiss her. Behind them, their clothes kept tumbling and tumbling together in the dryer, the disguises they’d chosen for this new invented life together. Outside, the town was dark, the windows of the laundromat glowing like an oasis as the wind swept past. Inside, they waltzed to the thud of the unbalanced laundry long after the song was over.


End file.
